


From the Sky

by mawtext



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Flirting, Budding Love, Diners, F/F, Lesbian Character, Nonbinary Character, Slice of Life, Useless Lesbians, these teenagers don't know what to do with themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mawtext/pseuds/mawtext
Summary: Vesta Laurits meets an angel in the town cafe.





	From the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> hey, look, a proper short story! i actually wrote this one for a creative writing class, but i'm genuinely really pleased with how it turned out.

Sipping a cup of coffee in between fits of tapping at the keyboard. The faint conversations. The noise of orders being taken and made behind the counter, in the back. The soft lights, the afternoon sun pouring through the large windows, the mixing aromas of different brews in the air. The calm it brings me is one I seldom find outside the walls of my own home. Even then, it isn’t quite preferable, but I wasn’t at the Cocoa Connection to treat myself.

While it’s nice to lose myself to my writing, it can be inconvenient. Especially when expecting a friend with a sense of humor.

“Vesta!” In comparison to the rest of the cafe, the word might as well have been a gunshot. Patrons turned their heads in both irritation and mild curiosity. I turned mine in a bout of fright, jumping in my seat and nearly spilling my coffee.

Standing before me, laughing with the widest smile in town, was Bishop. Short, brash, and overflowing with confidence. Also, my best friend. Moments like this often made me reconsider that, though.

“I’m glad you find my misery amusing.” I glowered at them, though it didn’t last. We both knew I couldn’t keep a straight face to save my life.

“Yeah, yeah,” they started, waving it off, “save the lecture for later. We have company!” Their smile was as bright as ever, but mine was not. My smile, as a matter of fact, was nonexistent. Worry took precedence.

“Company?”

“Company!” They raised a hand, waving, presumably encouraging someone to join us at the table. I turned to see who it is, and suddenly, everything slowed down.

A permanent inferno grew from her head, wild and curly, the flames licking downward at her shoulders. There was a galaxy on her sun kissed face, freckles exploding from the bridge of her nose, covering her in countless stars. In her eyes I saw clouds, heavy with rain, the overcast before the downpour. Her smile, blinding, caused her entire face to scrunch up.

I couldn’t breathe.

My eyes tracked her every molasses covered movement. The way she tentatively raised a hand, wiggling her fingers to wave. The way she sat, practically dropping into the seat, pushing her hair back when it fell into her face.

My heart raced in a way I didn’t know it could.

“-ou okay? Vesta? Hellooooo?” The world finally sped back up. Everything was in focus again. My cheeks were ablaze, but I could talk once more.

“I- sorry, I’m sorry, what?”

Bishop’s grin only grew. It was all knowing. The ethereal being sat next to them looked confused.

“I _said_ , meet Maeve. She’s new in town.” She waved again, smiled again. My heart was trying to claw its way out of my throat.

"I- uh, me Vesta.” Silence. You could hear a pin drop- or, more accurately, my stomach drop to the pits of hell as I realized what I just said.

“I’m Vesta! I mean I’m Vesta. My name is Vesta. Laurits. Vesta Laurits.” The words spilled out of my broken faucet of a mouth. I screamed, internally. Bishop, to their credit, was trying not to lose themself in laughter, even going to far as to cover their mouth. Unfortunately, they’d never been much good at holding anything in. The dam broke, and suddenly the cafe was full of their guffaws.

“It’s nice to meet, you, Vesta,” a flute sang, cutting through the noise with a heavenly harmony of vowels and consonants. I was lost in the music. I would have missed her offer the handshake had Bishop not slapped the table a few times in their revelry.

"Uh, yeah. Yes,” I replied. Our hands touched, and I thanked gods I did not believe in that it hadn’t been long enough for my hands to get sweaty. Hers were rough, the calloused hands of someone who used them often. It was unexpected, but in the way where one is pleasantly surprised to find out their chocolate is in fact a cordial. I would have been content to hold her hand forever, simply sitting across from her and examining the slopes and curves of her face. After all, it’s not every day you get to witness perfection for yourself. I did hold the shake longer than was necessary, but thankfully regained my senses before it become too noticeable.

"You too,” I finally managed.

Bishop reached the ending stages of their laughter, wiping away tears and giggling out the rest.

"Oh my _god_ , Vesta,” they said, interrupting themself with another bout of laughter. I stewed in my embarrassment.

“Okay, okay- okay. I’m done.” They sighed out a soft _hoo_ , leaning back.

“So, um…” I began, unsure of where I was going but unable to stop, “Where… are you from?”

“I came down here from NYC.” The shock I was feeling must have been obvious on my face, because she followed up with “What?”

“You’re- You’re from _New York_?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Those two words obliterated me. I couldn’t figure it out what they meant. A nervous confirmation? A condemnation of my disbelief? Had she taken it as an insult? Was she somehow insulting me? Or was she just confused?

My head filled to overflowing in a second with the possibilities, and I was a lost cause- until Bishop spoke up.

"Wooow, Vesta. Got some deep, personal problems with New York? And you kept them from _me_?” I blinked. They put a hand to their chest, mocking being hurt. “And here I thought we were friends… way to hit two birds with one stone.”

“No! Nononono, no, no, I didn’t-” Nervous laughter breaks through my words. “I didn’t mean it like that. Like an insult. I meant… um…” I meant that it was a load of bull that Maeve was from New York. From anywhere on earth. She was so very clearly an angel, descended from the heavens themselves as a test. What was being tested, I had no idea, but I was glad to partake if it meant more of her.

I couldn’t possibly tell them that, though. To have Bishop able to lord that over me, to have Maeve think me weirder than she already did… I couldn’t bear it.

“We don’t really, get a lot of people here in Plush! New people. Especially not from places like New York.” I smiled innocently, not at all like the sort of person who would confess their love upon first meeting someone.

“Y’know, actually, Vesta’s right. This place is kind of a shithole. Why _here_?” Bishop leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands clasped together.

“Wait, you don’t- how don’t you know where she’s from?” I looked at Bishop incredulously.

“Oh, well, y’know… big party, lots of noise, lots of beer, lots of other things on my mind.” They simply shrugged, a “what can you  do?” look on their face. Maeve stifled a laugh.

“Party?” They hadn’t told me about a party.

"Oh, yeah! Shit, I didn’t tell you! Yeah, Maeve is- Maeve is Rich’s cousin. Met her at his place Sunday. Only remembered because she texted me the next day.” The grin on their face was unbelievable.

“Unbelievable,” I sighed, putting my forehead in my hands. And then I paused. “Wait, you’re _Rich’s_ cousin? But you’re- you’re…” I struggled to find words that wouldn’t be too insulting.

"Good looking? Not a grade A asshole? Yeah, I know.” She let out an amused huff.

“Then how-”

“I dunno. I’m just as confused about it.”

We met eyes and the fire in my cheeks flared up again. She laughed, I laughed. The speckled black of the table had suddenly become incredibly interesting. I tapped out a nervous beat on the table in an effort to calm myself.

“Yeah, so Rich is awful,” Bishop stepped in, saving us all from this awkward silence. “You still haven’t answered why you’re _here_ , in Plush, East Virginia.”

“Oh! Well… I dun- uh, wait. Hold on. Did you just say East Virginia?” We exchanged a glance, and miraculously, I didn’t combust. We looked at Bishop.

“What? That’s what everyone calls it.”

“N… no, th-” I began, before they cut me off.

“Or, everyone in this state, anyway.” The completely casual, poker-faced delivery of nonsense had even me convinced for a split second.

“So, like I said. New York to East Virginia. Why?” And they pushed right on without a second thought. Maeve and I exchanged another, longer look, absolute befuddlement clear on both our faces. We could not for the life of us work out whether or not they were joking.

“Um… sure, yeah, uh, I dunno.” She shrugged. “My parents are being suuuuper shady about it. It’s a change of pace! Work requires it! Whatever!” She tossed her hands up, clearly frustrated.

“It sucks! I grew up in New York, and now here I am, in the middle of nowhere, Virginia.” She paused. “No offense.”

“Oh, dude, no, no worries.” I shook my head in total agreement. “Vesta and I are hittin’ the road after graduation.”

“Into the great unknown,” I added. “Small towns aren’t especially… kind, to people like Bishop and I.”

“We don’t take kindly to massive lesbifags and gendergay folk ‘round here,” Bishop mocked, putting on a heavily exaggerated southern accent. Maeve and I both temporarily lost our cool in favor of laughing.

“Essentially, yes,” I said once I regained control of myself.

"God… damn,” She started. “So, wait, Vesta,” I perked up at the sound of her saying my name, and I knew for a fact that my cheeks were flushed again. “Bishop is, obviously, a void, so does that make you the lesbian?”

My entire body tensed. What must have been just a moment, a few seconds at most, stretched into an eternity. A million thoughts were racing through my mind, too fast to focus on any individual one long enough to answer them. _Why would she ask? Is she gay? Is this a trap? Is she out to get me? Will she out me and point this close-minded town in my direction with their pitchforks and torches?_ I couldn’t figure out what her end goal was. She seemed okay with Bishop being agender, but maybe, for some reason, she had a grudge against lesbians? It was getting to the point where my hesitation was obvious. Obvious enough that, after a quick look between Maeve and Bishop, Maeve cut through my thoughts.

“I only ask because… Because I am! And… It would be nice,” she went on, slowly, carefully choosing each word, “to know I’m not the only one in this town.” She was smiling kindly, but her own nervousness was clear. I couldn’t tell you what it was she was nervous about, though. Despite it not being a guarantee of anything, I could feel my heart soar. There was a chance. I had a chance.

"Oh! Well- well, in that case, yes!” I paused. “Or, no, not in that case- I’m not- I’m a lesbian because you are, I just, I was, you know, nervous, and…” I trailed off. Bishop was grinning impishly, looking back and forth between us. I hardly noticed, too busy staring at the cumulonimbus clouds staring back at me. Maeve wore the biggest smile, half-hidden behind a hand trying to keep the mouth closed, to keep the laughter from escaping. I could have watched her for the rest of eternity.

I didn’t, though. Something buzzed, knocking me out of my trance. I was quick to look away, toward Bishop, pulling out their phone, but there was no way she hadn’t noticed. I tried to put that embarrassing thought aside.

"Damn,” Bishop muttered. “Andrew wants to meet up. Time for me to skidaddle.” Before Maeve could even offer to move, they’d hopped over the back of the booth and begun their stride toward the door.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” They cast out before finally exiting. I groaned, sinking lower into the booth, hands over my face. Maeve was giggling like the sensible person I was not.

"I really like them,” she said.

"Yeah,” I replied. “They’re wonderful.”

“How long have you two known each other?” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. It put me somewhere in between wanting to match her and wanting to lean as far back as possible.

"Oh, lord,” I said, knitting my caterpillar brows together. “Literally since birth. We were right next to each other in those hospital beds. We were born at the exact same time. This tickled our parents so much that they decided right then and there that they would become best friends. We’ve been inseparable ever since. They’re basically my sibling, and…” I trailed off, suddenly aware that I’d gone off on something of a small tangent. I was ready to die, but a quick look at her face told me that she was either far more interested than I’d given her credit for or a master of masking her feelings. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to continue.

“And…?” She prompted, curious about where that sentence ended. Unfortunately, I’d made the mistake of noting how her eyebrows raised slightly and her lips parted just so when she was listening intently, and my story was quickly forgotten.

"Oh, uh- uh, sorry. I lost my train of thought.” Lost it in her eyes.

“Aw. Oh well,” she sighed, reaching her arms up and stretching. “So… tell me your favorite color!”

And the afternoon cooled into night, the sky gone from blue to orange to a vast, starry expanse. Patrons came and went. Occasionally a waiter or waitress would come by, occasionally one of us would order more food, although it was purely an excuse to stay.

I’d never felt so lost. Since that first night, I still haven’t. So caught up was I in her words, her movements, her appearance, her. We talked and talked, and in the moment, it felt as though it would never end. It might not have, were it not for the sudden siren wail of her ringtone. She was whisked away from me, but not before she scribbled something down on a napkin. She left with a wave and a dazzling smile, solidifying the curse she’d set on me.

Even with her absence, I was stunned into silence. I only managed to break free of my stupor thanks to the man behind the counter waving at me with a knowing smile. I turned away. The napkin was just laying there, tempting me, teasing me. A part of me didn’t want to pull it closer, to read whatever had been written. I could feel a distinct fear of rejection. I could have not. I could have left. But I didn’t. I pulled the napkin toward me. A phone number was written on it.

I could feel my heart in my throat.

**Author's Note:**

> talk about useless lesbians!! Vesta is actually a favorite of mine when it comes to my own characters. i'm definitely going to get around to fleshing these three out some more, i just need some time nsdjkn


End file.
